


The Funeral of the Dormouse

by OddKid42



Category: Are You Alice? (Manga)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Canonical Character Death, M/M, annoying narrator at start, bc I think it added to the lackadaisical tone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 10:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19424509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OddKid42/pseuds/OddKid42
Summary: The funeral of the mouse and the dodo bird was a small affair. Only three attended.





	The Funeral of the Dormouse

The funeral of the mouse and the dodo bird was a small affair. Only three attended. 

The Hatter was the coffin bearer, the Bartender the minister, and Alice the chief mourner (though the true mourner was the Hatter). It was queer gathering with everyone dressed in their clothes of everyday as no one owned nicer clothes and had no one to borrow nicer clothes from. 

The gravesite was a section of woods whose ownership was impossible to say. The group decided that it was rather unimportant where the bodies laid as long as they laid somewhere. It seemed a bit of mess to have the mouse on the palace floor and the bird in lake even though tea time and playtime had always been a bit of a mess in Wonderland. No, it simply would not do, so the responsibility fell to their friends—or to be rather honest, the people who had seen them alive last. The Hatter shouldered the burden of the mouse by virtue of having tea together and, after much insistence on Alice’s part, the dodo bird. Of course, they had to then fish the bird out of the pond—and by “they” I mean, of course, Alice—which was a sight the cat would have laughed at, but he wasn’t invited to the reception nor the funeral for very obvious reasons. (Those reasons being, of course, that he had murdered the Dodo and nearly killed Alice. He may slink along like a stray cat and was sure to appear later without much of a fuss being made, but during the funeral it would have been too rude for even him.) 

After much searching underwater involving a lot of ups and downs for breaths, Alice found the body and pulled it out of the muck before too much damage had been done. It does certainly hammer the point home that someone is dead when you pull their body out of the water, doesn’t it? Poor innocent Alice had to take a moment to avoid crying (I didn’t say that he was able to, did I?) holding that limp, flightless bird. Did you know that he was the endling for his species? Once the Dodo sank, all the dodo birds were officially extinct for Wonderland and the Real World. (Of course, the White Rabbit will get a new one, but it is rather sad, hmm?) 

The Hatter thought it was sad like we do, but he didn’t cry. He had to find the mass grave where the Queen dumps his traitors and was surprised to find his deceased mousy friend with a head wound. (And the Queen doesn’t own a gun!) The Mad Hatter decided to solve the mystery—or really spend any form of thought over his dead friend’s death—at a later date and set about cleaning up the Doormouse before the final gathering. 

It was such a fantastically sober affair! The Doormouse would have fallen asleep at it himself if he wasn’t already asleep in death. Alice bought white lilies for the funeral—silly boy had to ask the flower store owner which flower to get as if he had never been to a funeral before!—and wildflowers for the Dodo Bird (rather sweet don’t you think? Especially since none of the little bird’s friends were left.) 

Alice tried to give a short speech about how the Dodo didn’t deserve to die (of course he didn’t. No one deserves to die.) and how the Doormouse was kind to him during the first and last time that they met, and the Hatter stomped on his cigarette and said that the whole affair was stupid. Then they started to bury everyone, and while they did the Hatter remembered and told a story. (For the story I will be good and not interrupt with my thought on the matter, but it does become rather boring when one must pretend that they are not there. Ho hum.) 

***

One day, the Hatter was walking through the woods when he came across a table in the forest. There was a strange man asleep with the tea set by his head. The Hatter found the sight strange and thought to himself: Who is this strange man asleep with the tea kettle by his head? The whole table is set and no one but him here. 

Regardless, the Hatter knew that it was tea time as it always is and tilted the tea kettle to pour a cup, but no water came out. 

It’s empty, the strange man said and yawned. 

Then put water in it, dumbass, the Hatter replied. 

If I made some now, the strange man replied, squinting up at him with his head resting in his arms, no one would drink it. 

Then why have the table set with cups out, the Hatter asked. He was angry that there was no tea. It would throw off his schedule if he had to wait for tea. 

I have no idea, the strange man replied unmoved. It is a part of my rules. To have tea with the Hatter. 

The Hatter was not very impressed. If you don’t have tea, we cannot have tea. It sounds like you are terrible at your job. He began to light a cigarette. 

The Doormouse watched the Hatter amused with his chin resting on his arms. I have sugar cubes, he pointed out, and bourbon. With your cigarettes, it is a tea party of sorts. 

The Hatter smiled a bit and settled sideways in a plush Victorian wingback, and the Doormouse poured his liquor into tea cups and uncapped the sugar dish. Both men were happy for a while with their bourbon and sugar cubes in the hoax of the world. 

The Doormouse became serious while nibbling on his unlit cigarette. I will tell you a secret if you would like. 

Sure, the Mad Hatter said expecting further nonsense. 

We have had tea parties before, you and I and the Marsh Hare. I would sleep through them and you would keep the time inaccurately and we would move around this table to avoid the dirty dishes because we were indolent then and didn’t know how to be afraid or keep time, so we weren’t and we didn’t. I would wake and sleep without a difference between them because each moment was peaceful and happy, and you tried to be serious before discard the behavior only to try it on later like an amusing hat. We spend a thousand summer days in a loop and never suffered because of it. 

The Doormouse yawned. I miss those days. I miss them very much. 

The Hatter was no longer enjoying the party. It felt too familiar and too foreign. How do you know that? 

Because I am the Doormouse. The strange man stood up and quietly stretched, and the Hatter intrinsically knew that they had been friends for a long time but had grown apart over nonexistent time. My role is to know things, so I can tell them to Alice. When everything is over, then maybe we can all spend summers together but not now. 

Long after the Doormouse had left, the Mad Hatter sat in the chair with the tea cups all around and thought about what the other man had said, about infinitely being happy and having peace. He decided that it did him no good to think of these things now when he had not found Alice or even knew who Alice was. 

He mused to himself over a forgotten line or joke or question that haunted the place: Why is a raven like a writing desk? And he didn’t know. 

***

Alice thought that the story was sort of sad and sort of happy but mainly odd. He knew though that with the Doormouse gone the Hatter would never speak of the memory again, so he decided to think about it more and try to make the dream a reality by being a good Alice. Even with the Doormouse that the Hatter shared a drink with being gone, Alice thought that the Doormouse’s memory would be more at peace if it occurred. 

So the two living characters went on their way, and the graves of the Doormouse and the Dodo Bird were left with carved stones to mark their existence in case everyone else forgot.


End file.
